Serve Me An Upgrade


Whyr's eyes locked on to the woman as she entered the night club, he decided she looked infinitely more like a girl, however her mature form indicated otherwise. She wasn't stunning enough to get his attention, admittedly he had been seeing the faces of just about everyone who entered the building, it was just that he knew this face. Her name was Cassandra. Practically a surrogate daughter to Exavior Alistair. That made her a point of interest.

"...and it dropped our profit by, like, ten percent. Of course they'd drop him, he was a damn lunatic!"

Whyr reached for his glass and sipped as he tuned back in to what his riled up colleague was saying. He stood casually leaned over the bar, this was where the riled up corpos sat, and they did it without a care in the world, always confident any dispute their haphazard spouting might brew could be solved with a big enough bank account. Whyr wasn't really like that, but he had to sell the part.

His colleague paused, red-faced like that of a divorced evangelist looked expectantly. This was where Whyr responded to let him know he was still permitted to fire saliva projectiles every which way and gulp down his fifth shot before calling it a day.

"You know, that's a damn shame." Whyr spoke naturally with a matter-of-factly tone, not bothering to offer much eye contact so that in the event of Whyr's mind slipping to something that his brainpower would be much better spent focusing on (which it inevitablely would), Whyr's diverted gaze would look more like he was internalizing his beloved colleague's every thought and less like him attempting to escape a reality harsher than human trafficking. Suffice it to say, Whyr was most definitely not listening.

No, what interested him most was this girl or woman, this Cassandra, this strange possession of Alistair's who's coming into being as she was now was one he admittedly knew nothing about. A carnal force inside of him triggered, he could feel it, and he thought, she's prey. That was his response to seeing her. This wasn't in some sort of peverted way, though, just a fact. Whyr held a mental advantage over people like that, those naive and chalking inexperience and ignorance up to innocence. Not a critique, or a idealistic disagreement, just a bodily response, like that of a wolf drooling at the sight of a rabbit. He gritted his teeth, the metallic points generating a taxing frictional force in his jaw that was refreshing in contrast to his now aching ears.

"...and can't believe they wouldn't think he'd go that far."

"Makes you wonder why people think what they do these days. Get real!"

The statement was less of a reaction and more of a reflex, Whyr played it off this time with a gentle twirl if the hair and scratch of the ear, sufficient.

His silver eyes found those blue pearls once more, he noticed them focus on something, the slightest bit of worry in them. He followed them to the door, he spotted grey eyes, furrowed brows, a poker face that seed a doubt of dominance into the heart of the biggest lux tux and gold chain wearing douchebag in the bar. Not him though. He saw her eyes and remembered being reminded of a mirror.

"Interesting..." Whyr said, in genuine interest, but with a slight turn and a 0.5-second glance, it also served as a reaction to something colleague had said that seemed like it could be a point trying to be made, but in an alternate universe somewhere where it actually mattered. To be fair, Whyr simply didn't like colleague because he never had anything thought provoking to talk about, and therefore he didn't really care for the guy. To be sure, if it didn't directly support his social standing to be seen chatting it up with other corpos in some tacky bar, colleague's existence would be utterly inconsequential to Whyr. But it was so it was.

Whyr had come to the conclusion that silver eyes must of been some kind of do'er, likely one with ties to Alistair, which made her importance a lot more substantial as well. He would need to watch these two, especially the former because her visiting local clubs seemed to be highly irregular.

Not much else was ensuing for now, and Whyr himself knew people didn't like a starter, so he laid off and put slightly more effort into responding to the guy having a conversation with himself. That didn't last long though, when Whyr noticed a body drop. The club was loud, really loud, as if his colleague's slurred words weren't actually debilitating enough. He had no context, but noticed a hooded figure slinking off before cowering in a corner. Whyr's eyes narrowed. Who was this mystery man? He hadn't seen him enter... Hmm... Between listening to inane rambling and profiling those girls, this one must have slipped in without his noticing. Well then, things certainly felt like they were getting interesting. Whyr was more than comfortable right where he was. He got comfy (as one could get), and watched each of these events unveil before his eyes,

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